


Lacrymaria Olor

by msouma



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Drugs, Incest, M/M, if you were reading this before the fic was finished... i'm so sorry lmao, you know... the apocalypse?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:54:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26108299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msouma/pseuds/msouma
Summary: The beauty was buried underground in a beautiful casket with a beautiful headstone as the hero of the nation.“And I was… foolish enough to follow him all the way to the front line.”
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz
Comments: 22
Kudos: 63





	1. Deadcrush

**Author's Note:**

> yes it's the very first fic i'm posting on here, yes i made the account for this. if i never update it again just know i have no clue how to operate this hellsite.
> 
> either way, hope you enjoy this! (especially my friend who keeps pushing me to write what i like!! so special thanks to u!)

“Well, Dave must have been a very special person… to put up with all your weird-ass shit,” Diego said so utterly calmly as if he was not tying knots to the rope that was binding Klaus to the chair of his demise. The rope was tight, tighter than he would’ve wished, but it did its job.

_ He  _ wanted this, Klaus had to remind himself,  _ he _ wanted to be clean so that he could see Dave again. Diego was only a tool used to achieve that, one precious tool that Klaus cared about so much… but ultimately, just a tool.

“Yeah…” Without even trying, a warm smile shined upon Klaus’ tired, sweaty face. “Yeah, he was…” Oh, special Dave was. There was no one,  _ nothing _ on this wasteland he called the earth that could compare to how exceptional Dave was to him. If his hands would be free, he would most likely clutch onto the dog tag and bring it to his lips so he could kiss the cold metal until it was just as warm as Dave once used to be.

A happy, longing sigh escaped past his lips, and Diego stared at him in curiosity. “He was kind…” The moment they first talked flashed through his eyes - Dave’s helmet that was just a tad too big, the sun playing on his beautiful features as it slid down his head. The way he leaned forward just to get closer to Klaus, to ask him such a simple question.

Klaus cursed himself for not kissing him then and there.

The smile faded just a bit, but the melancholic look stayed in Klaus’ eyes as he continued, “...and strong.” He remembered the times he touched that tough body, explored it with his eyes, his fingers, his lips. 

“And vulnerable,” he didn’t forget to add, but a lump formed in his throat that was difficult to swallow. His lips hurt from not being able to press against Dave’s soft ones.

Diego didn’t seem to mind this somber mood. Maybe he did, but just let Klaus speak his mind. God knows no one ever listened to the guy. Diego was the first one to do so, even if it was something about his dead lover from a war that Klaus was never supposed to be in. It may sound like dumb drunk talk to anyone else, but Diego  _ believed _ him. That alone made Klaus’ heart swell up in joy.

Ben believed him, too, but he was there with Klaus, so he shrugged this off as an everyday occurrence. Yet, Ben’s eyes seemed to shine in unnatural softness. Klaus was not one to enjoy pity.

Eyes closed, the smudged liner covering new land on his skin from the sheer force of the blink. “And beautiful…” His voice got lower, tears threatening to spill, but he blinked them away quicker than Diego managed to notice. Klaus hoped he failed to notice this, at least.

“Beautiful.”

His disheveled hair, his mesmerizing eyes, his nose, his dry lips, his strong jaw, his hickey covered neck, his strong arms, his big torso, his muscular legs. Everything about him was oh so beautiful. The beauty was buried underground in a beautiful casket with a beautiful headstone as the hero of the nation.

“And I was… foolish enough to follow him all the way to the front line.” 

**—**

The conversation was forgotten so easily as if it had never happened in the first place. Because in this timeline, it didn’t. Five made sure to give them enough time to stop the inevitable apocalypse by jumping back in time way before this moment happened.

**—**

Klaus stood dazed in the hallway, watching as Diego passed by him wordlessly. Being off drugs and alcohol for a day made his lithe body wobbly and his brain all foggy and messed up. He was sweating, but he was cold. He was thinking, but he was numb.

“Hey, Diego,” he called and got no answer. With a confused grimace on his face, Klaus followed his brother into the bedroom. Diego looked so distraught. Angry brows framing his face, nose scrunched up just a little, lips pressed into such a tight line that they were almost gone. Klaus had no clue how to help. “What happened?” He finally uttered out.

Yet Diego gave no answer. He spared one single glance at Klaus and then decided their time together was over.

“I’m leaving,” the man stated proudly as he grabbed some stuff from his room, and that got Klaus so excited he was metaphorically jumping up and down and clicking his heels like a cartoon character. In reality, he only spun in a circle before turning to leave the room.

“I’m with you, just lemme grab my coat!”

“No, really, this time I’m going alone.”

“Thanks, Diego!” Ever the one to get social cues, Klaus decided he was going with Diego, whether the other wished for it or not. He grabbed his fluffy pink coat (that he may have not so discreetly stolen from Allison), slipped on dark blue combat boots that have ripped at so many edges that one would be forced to wonder about the age of the shoes, and came back to his brother who was about to leave him behind.

Jumping into the backseat of the old thing that Diego called a car, he leaned forward and giggled right next to his brother’s ear. Usually, that would earn him at least a half-smile from the other, but this time it was empty silence. He decided to break it.

“Where are we going?”

“Where am  _ I _ going? I don’t know, home, probably. What? You wanna come with, or will you tell me where to drive you so I can get rid of you?” This time, more than others, Diego seemed not only bitter and unpleasant, but aggressive. Klaus wasn’t used to that.

His attitude was quick to turn meek, pushing Klaus back into the backseat and making him pull his long legs up onto the seat.

“Uh… ahh…” He looked towards Ben as if the ghost could provide him with some sort of answer. By the time Ben thought up of something, Klaus was ready to open his mouth, and Ben could only utter out a soft  _ ‘don’t’ _ , but it was too late.

Klaus was sober for too long (if you consider a bit more than a day as long, that is). The withdrawals caused his whole body to shake like he was a scared little child, sweat rolling down his cool skin so copiously that he was worried he was going to lose all of the water in his blood. Fingers trembled, looking for another glass bottle to tip over, for another pill to hide under his tongue.

The embrace of the drug-induced euphoria that shielded him from the worries of his past, the bitter aftertaste of whiskey mixed with someone’s spit that numbed the endless pain, the bone-crushing sound of music that broke in every part of his body so he could feel like a simple soundwave, running along with the stream of other bodies. It was all so alluring, so promising. He’d forget, forget, forget, until haze was all that consumed him.

“To the club,  _ brother dearest. _ You know the drill.”

With a simple nod, Klaus was dismissed. The feeling of dismissal lingered the whole ride, though. The car was completely silent, no radio to help the ambiance, no lectures from Diego, no sighs nor defeated mumbles from Ben. No chit chat from Klaus, either, other than the occasional help in directions. The drive was long, yet short, and he both wished for it to last and was relieved it ended.

With a screech, the old car was parked in front of the nightclub. It looked a bit shabby from the outside - stone walls mossy and chipped, the door made of old metal creaked loudly when opened, the small rug outside of the door dirty from the typical street mess and some vomit, the sign that used to read “THE BAD APPLE” now only lit up half the letters, which ended up showing “TH B APL”. That often gained a chuckle or two from Klaus, but not this time. He looked almost sad as he glanced at the sign, the guard standing in front of the door, and then finally,  _ Diego. _

Oh Diego, his big, strong brother that had always sworn to protect him; why was he suddenly so different, so cold?

“I don’t think they’ll let me in… Can you have a talk with them?” Whiny little plea escaped past Klaus’ chapped lips, and Diego’s eyes flicked in feral rage for just a moment. Klaus noticed how the gloved hands clutched tightly onto the wheel for just a second, how Diego’s strong arms tensed as if he was ready to break the damn car, how his face darkened. But he was back to normal in mere seconds, giving Klaus a defeated sigh.

“Fine. But you will leave me alone after this.” His words sounded so deadly that Klaus had no choice but to bob his head in approval as he followed Diego out of the car in a rushed manner.

Shivers broke out as chilly night air hit his underdressed body. The tie-dye crop top exposed much of his midriff, and the low rise leather pants didn’t help, combined with the cut-out sides that were only connecting the material by strings. He could see the little bumps that have formed from the cold on his belly, and he scrunched up his nose in discomfort as he tugged the big pile of fluff around himself to cover up. Allison’s perfume made the coat smell heavenly - flowery with a tinge of cinnamon. It covered up any bodily odors that may linger on Klaus from his attempts to stop his addiction.

Black painted nails dug into the soft material as he tucked the coat closer and closer to his body, relishing in the fact that it was warm, it was gentle, it was just what Klaus needed to keep him on his feet.

From Diego’s side, it looked like Klaus was trying to rub one off in the middle of the street by nuzzling the coat like some feral animal. But instead of focusing on his brother’s weird antics, he walked up to the guard beside the door and pointed over to Klaus with an awkward, overly pleasant smile that looked comical on his face.

Klaus gave a shaky wave as he tapped one of his feet against the ground and shrugged his shoulders one by one in some sort of rhythm that only he could hear in his mind. By the song that was stuck in his head, he quickly got distracted and began humming ever so slightly as he waited for his brother.

And just after a few minutes, Diego was snapping him out of his trance by tapping his fluffy shoulder. Klaus’ raccoon-like eyes turned to the other, and he gave him a sheepish smile before speaking, “sooo… what’d he say?”

“You’re fine to go.”

Hope glittered in those green eyes, and Klaus was a moment away from grabbing his brother’s soft cheeks and placing a big, sloppy kiss on one of them from appreciation. He got interrupted before he could even reach out.

“But I have to go in with you. They don’t trust you when you’re drunk, you know? I don’t know what kind of shit you pulled, bro, but it probably wasn’t great.”

Klaus’ hope jumped out of his chest and into the deep waters where it drowned under the spreading despair. There was no way Diego was going to follow him inside. If there was anything the guy was, it was righteous.

When they were kids, this trait shined in his brother with ease - after all, saving lives, protecting those weaker than the special ones, and all that bullshit was encouraged in the Hargreeves’ household. And while Diego wanted to prove that he was more human than Number 1, Number 4 got himself high as a kite while he let a stick and poke pierce through one of his palms for the first time.

This wish of being strong, this _ need _ of basic humanity and goodness festered in his virtuous brother until it consumed all of his body and turned him into what he is now - some sort of vigilante who thought that he could save the whole wide world, including Klaus. The latter had completely different feelings festering in him that weren’t important to note nor discuss. Or maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to discuss them because he wanted them to be gone. Some drinks should help with that.

Catching his thoughts, Ben shook his head in disapproval.

Klaus shifted uncomfortably, his overly tight pants rubbing right at the thighs. A slight, surprised gasp left past his lips at the icky feeling before he reached his ‘goodbye’ hand out to gesture around him in an attempt to make this situation seem all the more nonchalant.

Come on, Klaus. What has always worked with men, when you ask nicely? A bat of eyelashes, a cutesy pout, submissively hunched up shoulders, nervous looks. They eat that shit up, but would his brother? He wanted to laugh at himself for actually attempting this.

Yet he chose to give it everything he had.

The fluffy coat made his already thin frame appear even scrawnier as he wrapped his arms around himself, bony fingers digging into his arms as if to keep himself warm. His eyes, dull from short-lived sobriety, glanced up at Diego for a split second before landing on the ground. 

_ Attempting to seduce your own brother, Klaus? Just to get wasted? That’s low, even for you.  _

He wasn’t sure where that voice was coming from, maybe Ben, maybe his own mind brightening up for once. Either way, those thoughts caused his face to flush.

Still, he forced his chapped lips to part as he asked, “Come with me, then?”

As he finally looked up at the man in front of him, he felt his breath hitch in the very back of his throat. Diego had a stern look to his deep dark eyes, lips curled in disgust and some sort of other emotion Klaus couldn’t quite figure out. He looked mean, he looked bad, he looked  _ hot. _

Oh, Jesus, was he that desperate for dick, now?

“Cut out this bullshit,” Diego said in a defeated tone, a sigh escaping right after. Still, despite the aggressive nature of his brother, a hand flew up to Klaus’ shoulders and roughly grasped it through all of the fur. That caused the poor guy to tense, giggle weakly, and then slowly unravel himself from the cocoon of his own arms.

“Let’s go before I change my mind.” 


	2. Blinding Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> proofread by a sleep deprived me, so mistakes are to be expected

Sweaty hands clapped together in enthusiasm as soon as Klaus saw the bright purple lights of the nightclub. They were slowly shifting into a shade of blue, bouncing off the dark walls and filling his body with a familiar rush. Why would he ever dream of sobriety when he had this? The nightlife was the thing Klaus was made for - the freedom, the show of it all… it was his home.

“Daddy’s back,” he whispered, unheard. His lidded eyes sparkled in glee, a joyous smile tugged so far on his lips that it ended up causing his cheeks to wrinkle. His sobriety did not reach 48 hours, yet Klaus had managed to miss getting wasted so damn bad.

Diego appeared like he wished to complain. But as Klaus turned to him and gave him that big, wide grin, the words died in the other’s throat. Two pink and fluffy arms snaked around one of Diego’s, and Klaus pushed himself flush to his brother’s thick arm. It felt warm, under his cool fingertips and even cooler cheek. The tense muscles could easily be traced underneath that black shirt he always wore, and **—**

“God damn, aren’t you hot? That thing’s meant to be worn in Antarctica.”

Diego gave him a pointed look, muscles flexing as he tried to tug his arm out of Klaus’ death grip. He failed miserably. Klaus nuzzled his cheek against his brother’s shoulder to pride himself in his tiny victory.

“I could ask the same of you. The coat’s pretty warm,” Diego pointed out. The words held no previous anger that he had today. Could Klaus consider this mission of cheering him up as a success?

“Mmhmm… But I think I’m allowed to wear this, dear. Been kinda cold the whole day.” And he sure was ready to warm up. Without waiting for Diego’s answer, he tugged the poor thing along to the nearest bar so Klaus could say a heated goodbye to his day long sobriety.

He could see Ben shake his head somewhere in the near distance, but he pushed the tiny amount of guilt away as he swam through the stifling crowd of people. The second he reached his target, he let go of Diego’s arm and leaned over the bar.

“The usual?” Disinterested, the bartender asked.

“You know me so well.” Klaus’ words came out almost delighted. Melodramatic, as usual, yet no one showed even a glimpse of concern. He could see how surprised Diego was because of it, but his brother was quick to return to his stoic expression as his eyes explored the new place. It was enough to signal the shift of his mood for Klaus.

There came a drink, then two, then three, and so on and so forth. Diego didn’t shy away from drinking either. _My body is a temple - my ass,_ Klaus wished to yell right into his ear, but what came out was a drunken giggle.

Between the little talk with Diego (which was overwhelmingly Klaus pouring out whatever was on his mind) and the drinks they consumed, Klaus pushed himself away from the bar table an hour later with the excuse of needing to go to the bathroom.

Hot, God, it was hot. He could feel every sticky droplet running along his thighs, underneath the tight leather, and along the strings. Clammy hands dug through his face, tugging at the burning skin as if they needed to rip the stray flesh off his cheeks, off his lids, off his temples. His body shuddered almost revoltingly so. The slight frame hunched, causing the jacket to hang off it. 

Eyelashes fluttered and Klaus’ eyes opened fully, only to be faced by the blinding lights of the nightclub. Pink, purple, blue, green. Pink, purple, blue, green. Pink, purple —

Hey, was that Ben? His brother’s pretty face seemed like it was melting into the colorful crowd, and Klaus wanted to reach out and grab onto him. He was alone, alone, so utterly alone. The unknown people kept getting closer to him, crushing him among the crowd. The lights flickered in so many colors it made his mind go delirious. The beat kept hammering his brain like a nail into a wall. Where the hell was Ben?

Air; he needed it so badly. He couldn’t get it even if he tried.

In a mere moment, Klaus couldn’t see a thing around him. No Ben, no Diego’s arm to cling onto, no strangers, no walls, no floor - nothing. Darkness, emptiness, the void. Exactly what he wished to be consumed by. Yet, it brought no comfort.

Dave?

There was he, one of harsh words and inviting smiles, one of starry eyes and dreamy kisses.

“Dave.”

Lips trembled, as did Klaus’ fingers. The steps he took were desperate - fast and clumsy, resulting in more falls than actual walking. Eventually, he resorted to crawling; dragging his body along the empty darkness so he could reach the beacon of happiness.

“Dave, Dave, Dave.” The chant never stopped. It dragged on with every movement of his tired body, every choking breath, every thud to his head.

But Dave kept fading away. Did he want to leave him? Did he wish to disappear? Did that time together mean nothing to him?

Long fingers tried to grasp onto the army pants his lover wore, but he stepped away just in time. Rattling noise filled Klaus’ ears, it stopped him from moving forwards. It was like marbles spilling on the floor; bullets. The darkness stopped, the lights began. Red, red, red. _Dave_. Laying there, blood pooling underneath him.

“Dave!” A scream so shrill that it deafened everyone who dared to step into the darkness of Number Four. 

“Klaus?” 

Parted lips clamped shut, and Klaus was quick to gather himself together - hands clenched onto the jacket to hide him (fuck, it’s _hot_ ), lost eyes landed on his brother, and he was grounded. He was tugged from hell and drawn back to the earth.

_“Diego.”_

The one thing Klaus had not yet managed to hide was the tremble in his voice as he spoke. Diego noticed it, since he clutched Klaus’ arm and tugged him hard. Klaus’ face ended up landing against his shoulder, and his arms flew up to follow as they wrapped around Diego’s neck.

He was warm. So warm, strong, soft, and gentle. Klaus was not sure who he was describing any longer, but did it matter, as long as it calmed his frayed nerves?

Stray tears escaped through the very corners as eyes clenched shut. Melted eyeliner slowly slid down the wet cheek only to blend into the darkness of Diego’s shirt. The sweaty face turned and a cheek ended up plush against the bone of Diego’s shoulder.

A jagged breath hit Diego’s neck, and Klaus could feel the shudder that surged through the other. Slowly, Klaus dragged the fingers of his right hand down his brother’s arm, soon reaching his hand. He had never been as gentle as now; letting his fingers entangle with the tense ones, slowly nudging them through the gaps before their hands were fully clasped together. Diego tensed, so Klaus’ left hand squeezed his arm to force him to relax.

“Klaus.” Diego’s low voice was right in his ear. Klaus’ breath hitched. _Klaus_ \- he wanted to hear that again. If his power were to rewind time, he would go back over and over again to that single moment. _Klaus…_ such slow manner of his speech, yet filled with adrenaline. There was something so awfully soft in the way Diego said his name, but the undertones of it differed greatly. Klaus wished to grasp onto what it was, but he couldn’t. He wanted to go back in time, he needed to go back in time. He wanted to hear that _need_ in Diego again.

A sniffle escaped him as Klaus finally lifted his head from Diego’s shoulder so he could look up at him. His wet eyes made the vision blurry, but he could still make out the important element there.

Broken lips finally dragged a few words out, “what is it?” His mouth was dry, making his voice as hoarse as a fucked out whore’s.

Klaus tried to blink away the tears that kept pooling in his eyes, but they were forced to stop and widen as soon as he felt a warm palm against his cheek. The scarred fingers stroked his cheek carefully like Diego was trying his very best not to break him. For a moment, Klaus felt valuable - a prized porcelain doll sat on the highest shelf in a living room, cleaned only with the gentlest of wands, handled only with the utmost care. He was never that, never. He was a worthless junkie that got wasted and had sex with strangers for a baggie of pills. But to Dave, he was something special. But to Diego… who was he to Diego?

“What is it?” He repeated, this time louder, so Diego would hear him through the intrusive music.

The tender touches faded as Diego pulled his hand away as if it got burned, and Klaus rose both of his brows in a questioning manner.

“Are you feeling any better?” Diego asked.

Klaus gave a nod as his hands let go of Diego and moved to his own face so they could clean up whatever mess was on it. The tears were now gone, and so was any of the snot that dared to drip below his nose, but the smudged makeup stayed on his skin as an incessant reminder of the one that had vanished.

The persistent beat of the song faded, giving a moment for Klaus to breathe. He took it gladly. Closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, let his body feel the weight of the alcohol running through his veins. No more pain, no more feelings. Just drinks and a good time.

“Bathroom.” Klaus finally remembered as he gestured towards the back of the nightclub. With a nod from Diego, he was let go, and he sprinted towards there as fast as possible. Leaving his brother all alone for a while would be simply rude, but then again, Klaus was never one of the most formal people ever. Plus, he did need to pee, take care of his fucked up mind and makeup, and maybe get some drugs in the process.

So what did Klaus do? Exactly that. After his face was neat and proper, or as proper as it could be while his eyeliner was still smudged around his eyes, Klaus was quick to find the local drug dealer in the club. He was a regular, it wasn’t entirely hard to do. Though the drugs here were a bit more expensive than everywhere else, but he supposed that would have to do if he wanted to get wrecked.

As he pulled wads of cash from underneath his tight pants, Ben finally appeared. Klaus’ brows shot up, eyes narrowed, and he glanced over at his brother with a bitter smile. First, he grabbed the bag of drugs. Then, he finally turned to face Ben.

“How nice of you to leave me all alone, Benny boy,” he hissed as he began walking through the crowd in search of Diego. One of the pills was carefully fished out of the baggie before it landed at the back of Klaus’ tongue. He swallowed it with ease, all too used to having to swallow drugs dry.

“I couldn’t really stay there, Klaus. If you forgot, my existence depends on you.” Ben rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive manner.

Klaus was quick to shove his ‘hello’ hand to Ben’s face. With a shake of his head, he spoke, “Well, maybe your existence should cease for a little bit. Don’t need your righteous speeches in my head now.” His point was further emphasized as his finger tapped against his temple a couple times.

The zip lock bag was soon shoved down his trousers, and Klaus continued his search for Diego. Kind of, just kind of, he didn’t want to see his face again. That interaction between them earlier was confusing. It was the way Diego touched him with so much tenderness, the way he let Klaus hold his hand with ease, and the goddamn way he said his name. It was all so overwhelming when combined with the surprising breakdown.

Ben didn’t shy away from commenting, “I was there when you and Diego were all lovey-dovey, though. You just didn’t see me.” A shrug.

“Ohhh, really? So what? Some brotherly love isn’t allowed around here?”

“You know it wasn’t that.” 

And oh, Klaus _knew._ Those delicate touches spoke more than any words could. It wasn’t normal for them to act like this, not normal at all. His face scrunched up in disgust, and he let a heavy breath out.

“God,” he whined, “I feel like Luther.”

Ben laughed at that, shrugging when he received an accusatory look from Klaus.

**—**

It wasn’t until around half an hour later that Klaus had finally begun feeling the effects that the drugs had on his body. And oh fuck, did they help. The constant intrusive thoughts, the anxieties, the pain - poof, and they were all gone. All that surrounded him was the comforting blanket of the blinking lights, the beat of the mesmerizing music and the heat of Diego’s body pressed against his. Not that they meant to be this close, but they couldn’t hear each other if they were further apart. Klaus liked it, too. Diego’s body was like a marble statue that was carved by a professional, and his big hands enveloped most of Klaus’ waist easily. 

It made him want to dance.

Klaus grasped onto Diego’s wrists with a laugh, tugging his hands away from his waist as he moved towards the dancing crowd.

“Diego,” he spoke, and Diego has never seen such happiness on his face before. “Let’s dance!” 

Shimmying his shoulders, he slid the jacket off. He wrapped the fluffy sleeves around his waist, letting the jacket hang around his hips. Klaus felt like he finally reached heaven. He wasn’t burning up any longer, at least not in an unpleasant way.

“I don’t dance.” Diego tried to get himself out of the situation, but Klaus wasn’t listening to a thing he was saying. Partly because the music was too loud, and partly because he just did not give a single fuck.

“Come on, big boy! Dance with me!” Oh, the earth below him twirled. Klaus decided to follow it. In the spot he stood in, crowded by others, he began spinning in a circle as he snickered gleefully. The world was turning and turning, the faces of strangers blurred in front of him, yet he would always stop on Diego. Diego… Gosh, wasn’t he beautiful?

First turn - his hair looked so soft. Klaus wished to run his hands through it, dig his nails into Diego’s scalp to witness his reaction. Second turn - the scars on his face made him seem so tough. In reality, he was nothing more than a sweetheart. Third turn - his lips looked delicious. How would they feel under the heat of Klaus’ breath? Fourth turn - his eyes caught Klaus in a trance. Deep brown, like a tunnel that would eventually lead him to an abyss. He wished to be gone.

Abruptly, his movements stopped, leaving his body swinging from left to right, his eyes going in circles. The disorientation left Klaus dizzy, his hands quickly grasping onto Diego’s shoulders to keep himself stable.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered through the haze. This wasn’t for Diego to hear, but it wasn’t hard to guess what Klaus said, either. Anyone with the slightest ability to lipread could decipher that.

“So are you.” Words slipped past Diego’s lips with ease, and it was as comical as it was sad. Diego was only honest when he was drunk, just like Klaus. Maybe they weren’t all too different, after all. Except for the fact that Klaus could never be as good of a person as his wonderful brother was.

Klaus didn’t respond, only chuckled. His body shifted forwards to press against Diego’s, arms wrapping around his neck. He could feel Diego’s sweaty skin sticking to his now bare arms, but he didn’t mind, no, he enjoyed it. It seemed like the same could be said for the other, as Klaus felt a pair of strong arms wrap around his waist and drag him even closer. The knot of the jacket at the front of Klaus’ hips was the only thing stopping them from merging into a bubble of high, loving mess. So he undid it, and the jacket fell on the floor to be forgotten.

His eyes closed halfway as he pushed his head further, to longer listening to the logical part of his brain. It was screaming at him to stop, to think about what the fuck he was doing, but did it matter, anymore?

“Diego,” he barely managed to mouth the name before he felt a pair of lips press against his own. It didn’t take more than a second for Klaus to get over the initial shock and melt into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut and hands clenching into tight fists. It was careful, sweet, with a tinge of passion somewhere in between, just like Diego himself.

He wasn’t sure whose powers it were, maybe it was just something human, but finally, everything around him melted away. It was just him, Diego, and the sweet embrace of euphoria.


	3. Just One Yesterday

Upon waking, the first thing Klaus felt was warmth. It wasn’t emitting from the soft blankets that had tangled up all along his legs and waist, nor was it coming from the window. It was covered by the plaid curtains, completely cutting off the flow of the light. Klaus was used to being chilly in his own tiny bed. His back always hit the ice cold wall when he slept, and the bed was too small for his lanky body to roll away. He would wake up shivering if he didn’t wrap himself up in blankets until he was but a fluff of hair peeking out of a giant ball of material.

This time, behind his back was the warmth of a human. It shifted against him, pressed closer and ran along his side in the form of a big hand. The mere feeling of someone beside him sent shivers down Klaus’ spine. It wasn’t the first time he felt that, no. Sometimes he would hook up with people and wake in their beds, all wrapped up in warmth and dirtied in bodily fluids and spilt alcohol. Sometimes he would sleep right next to Dave and wake up in his strong arms. That was so rare that he would often forget how it felt. He had never felt this in his own bed in the Hargreeves’ household, though.

There’s always a first time for everything, yeah?

Klaus turned slowly, sleepy eyes blinking open so he could look at the source of warmth next to him. His half asleep mind didn’t yet process who it could be, last night buried under many pills and even more drinks. But when his gaze focused on the familiar face, a glint of happiness fell upon his eyes as his lips stretched into a lazy smile.

Diego was still sleeping. His hair stood perfectly in that hairstyle he worked so hard for, although squished against the pillow. His lashes grazed his pretty, full cheeks. His lips were parted ever so slightly to help him breathe through his deep sleep. For once, all the tension in his strong body was gone, leaving nothing but a big heap under the blanket. Klaus never thought he’d consider this, but Diego looked _ cute _ . Not his typical macho man persona, just a big, cuddly teddy bear that was dreaming of the sweetest things imaginable.

One of his fingertips brushed over the exposed cheek, and Klaus leaned forward to place the tiniest of kisses against the open lips.

He slowly pulled the memories of last night into the forefront of his brain. It all started with a kiss. Against the deafening, fast-paced music, their lips played a slow and gentle symphony. Their bodies were the additional instruments, adding a bit more passion to the whole thing, a bit of talent and love. And when this heavenly composition was over, Klaus was left even more dazed. That’s exactly when his memory slowly became spotty - the pills doing their job.

The next thing he remembered was his head hitting against the wall in one of the shallower corners of the club with a soft  _ ‘ow!’ _ coming from him, his hands sliding under the heavy harness, his nails digging into the thick, coarse material of Diego’s shirt. He couldn’t see a thing, his eyes were closed. He could, however, remember the bliss he was lucky enough to suffer. Those sweet lips had left traces of Diego’s affection all along Klaus’ neck. Some were feathery kisses, others bruising bites; Klaus accepted all of them. He was nothing more but a victim to a passion he barely understood through his high.

Shifting ever so slightly in the bed, Klaus patted down his neck like he was trying to catch a bug running along it. Upon feeling a tinge of pain, he pressed one of his digits against the bruising skin. A yelp escaped him as his brows furrowed in surprise. Damn, the guy did a number on him. Klaus didn’t need to see himself to know just how purple and blue he was. But he  _ was  _ curious.

Slowly, so slowly that it hurt the tiniest of bones in his body, Klaus crawled out of the bed. He had to be careful. The bed was uncomfortably tiny, two grown human beings barely fit into it. While sleeping, it wasn’t a problem, as they could cuddle up closer than ever before. It’s the getting out that was a bother; Klaus didn’t wish to wake Diego up. He lifted the hand off his waist first, held it while he rolled to the very edge, then slowly lowered it to the mattress. Once that was done, he needed to heave his body off of the bed in the most painstakingly lethargic motions to keep the mattress from moving too fast and disrupting his brother’s beauty sleep.

He was suddenly free. Long legs began dashing towards a mirror in great excitement, ready to face the day with giant strides. And yet, they were stopped midway by Klaus’ throbbing head.

“ _ Fuck! _ ” He exclaimed and clasped his hands over his mouth moments later. Too loud. He turned his head to check whether that woke Diego up, but the only thing he could see was his body shifting. Klaus’ shoulders slumped in relief.

Then, his hands moved to his face so he could rub his temples and pinch the skin between his brows in an attempt to relax his muscles. It worked very little to calm the headache that rapidly got more agonizing, but it was enough for now. Enough until he got a good look at himself first.

The bruises along his pale skin were hypnotizing. Like a garden of flowers, all kinds of colors bloomed on his neck. There were pink little marks right next to his jaw that reminded him of lilies. Brighter bites along his throat and the left side of his neck that hurt like hell upon touch. Then purple and blue bruises, some lighter, some darker, playing all along the place, like some sort of mismatched, colorful game of chess.

“Jesus, Diego…” A mutter.

Klaus was supposed to just… walk around like that? Well, yeah, his siblings wouldn’t be surprised. Whoring himself out was kind of his thing. But he had never shown up in front of them with this many trophies of a night out. Worse, those trophies were from his own brother.

Sudden guilt swelled in the bottom of Klaus’ stomach, causing his chest to tighten and his headache to become more prominent than ever. He almost fucked his own brother.

“You almost fucked your brother.” The thoughts were repeated out loud by Ben.

A deadly glare was directed in Ben’s direction.

“Thanks, Sherlock. Couldn’t have deducted that myself.” Klaus’ response was laced in venom, but his voice was quiet. Partly because he didn’t want to wake Diego, but mostly because he couldn’t bring himself to be loud when the guilt was choking him up.

Technically, Luther and Allison used to be a thing, and no one cared about it. The family playfully teased them about this odd romantic endeavor, but they had never been cruel. The Hargreeves were not a normal family by any sense of the word. Their childhood wasn’t even family-like. The only thing that joined them all was a last name they shared, and the place they had lived in. The home wasn’t even considered a family one, more like a boarding school that they were shoved into since birth.

Still, Klaus couldn’t deny that he had a sibling bond with most of these people. He couldn’t deny that he had deeper feelings for some of them, too.

His gaze softened as it focused on Ben, and he let out a sigh as he pressed his hand against his forehead in defeat. The pressure ended up shifting some of the pain away.

“I almost fucked my brother.” What stage of grief was acceptance? Either way, he went through all of them a bit too fast.

Ben was quick to notice that, too, and he gave Klaus a sympathetic side smile. One of his arms reached out to pat Klaus on the shoulder, but it went through his skin like a wind of cold air. Ben’s face shifted into a grimace. He made a low, displeased noise.

**—**

Approximately ten minutes later, Klaus was downstairs. He was still wearing last night’s clothes - the uncomfortably tight leather pants and the crop top. The only things different about his overall look were the baby blue silk robe he had dragged over himself (Allison truly did have an amazing clothing selection), and that he was missing shoes. He didn’t need them inside, anyway. Grace had always kept their house pristine. 

Humming a soft tune, Klaus began preparing himself a cup of coffee. The blend was bought by Five, probably, or maybe someone else. Not that it mattered. All coffee was the same to him, as long as it made his groggy mind more aware of his surroundings.

While he waited for the water to boil, he shuffled around the room to locate some pain medicine, or any other remedy that would get his headache to pass.

“Bingo!” Klaus exclaimed as he grasped onto a bottle of pills. He was quick to fish a couple out and then flush them down with half a glass of water. The last time he had drunk water was probably yesterday noon, which resulted in his throat going raw whenever he dared to speak.

“Getting high off of pain meds now, are we, Klaus?” A cheery, albeit sleepy voice reached his ears. It was soft, mother-like, but the complete opposite of the auto-tuned timbre of Grace.

“Oh, Alli…” Klaus turned on his heel, his ass pressing up against the counter behind him. His pants let out an unpleasant, leathery squelch with the action. A small smile played on his lips as he was faced with a mess of curls, a scrunched up button nose and purple silk pajamas. 

Fingers pressed against his temples, eyes flicked closed and his brows raised as he let out a dramatic wail.

“I’m _ dying _ ,” he whined, “yesterday fucking killed me, sister.  _ Sono morto! _ ” His long arms flew away from his face and instead gestured wildly around him in an effort to signify an explosion. The drama in his voice only emphasized the point he was attempting to make. That being that he had a crushing headache, of course.

Allison rolled her eyes as she moved to grab a clean cup from one of the cupboards, quick to check if the kitchen was not yet in flames from Klaus making the coffee.

“I can see that,” she muttered objectively, a finger pointing towards Klaus’ neck for just a second before she grabbed the coffee pot. She carefully poured their now ready coffee into two white, no personality cups, then added a small bit of milk for herself. She was about to ask Klaus how he was going to drink his coffee, but he waved her off before grabbing the box of milk himself. A splash of it, then three sugars to mask the bitterness, and  _ voila! _ Coffee for him and him only.

Both of them settled down on the chairs near the table, and Allison gave a pointed look as she sipped at her coffee.

“Should I first ask where you got that robe from, or the hickeys?” A soft smile accompanied the question that sounded so incredibly casual for something this nosy.

“Neither.” Klaus gave a nonchalant shrug, took a drink, then spoke, “The robe is from someone really near and dear to my heart. And I think it looks hot on me, no? It makes me look expensive.” His palm stretched across his covered thigh, fingers grasped onto the silky material and then pulled it up to reveal his leather masked leg. He stuck it out purposefully before pressing his foot against the side of a chair nearby.

He hoped that would be enough, but Allison’s raised brows said otherwise.

Klaus gave in.

“The hickeys from… well, I don’t know how to put it other than I was drunk, high, and wasn’t sure what I was doing.”

Or maybe he didn’t.

“You don’t remember them?” Another difficult question was shot straight at his heart. Klaus wouldn’t dare to lie and say no, but he didn’t wish to say the name, either.

“Oh, I  _ do… _ ”

Before he could cover his face with the boring cup, a dreamy smile made itself prominent. Allison was quick to catch a glimpse of that, which only got her more curious. Klaus already knew he was in for an interrogation. Why didn’t Allison choose to be one of those bad ass cops? Somehow that ended up being the job of the feeble, soft-hearted Diego.

“Uh-huh?” The way she blinked made her look so fucking innocent. A tinge of irritation spread through Klaus’ lanky body, but he dismissed it as he took a big gulp of the sweetened drink. His brows knitted together at the taste.

“Uh-huh.” His answer was bitter, unlike his coffee.

Even with Allison’s burning questions, Klaus managed to get away scot-free of any accusations of incest. Not that she had any right to complain if she did find out, though. She was the one who led them all to this wrong path with her shining example of her teenage crush.

**—**

Once he was no longer a suspect in his sister’s investigation, he cleaned his cup and walked back to his own little bedroom. The door behind him was shut closed in a quick movement and a loud creak. Klaus was about to curse himself for waking Diego, but the man was already awake.

_ “Oh,” _ a soft noise escaped Klaus’ throat. “You’re awake…”

Diego didn’t say a word, just stared at him for a good minute. His eyes were burning a hole in his neck. Klaus was bordering between pride and shame as he stood in place, rocking back and forth of his heels. Fingers itched to tug up the side of his robe to cover up the purple skin.

Then Diego beckoned him like a little dog, and Klaus didn’t dare to complain as he got back into the small, creaky bed and cuddled up to his brother.

While his own headache was starting to fade due to the pills, slight hydration and coffee, Diego’s was only beginning. Klaus couldn’t help but giggle when he heard the other curse in pain, fingers squeezing the life out of the bridge of his nose.

“Diego,” he cooed, “You’ll make it worse.” 

Tentatively, his marked palm pressed against Diego’s hand, and he tugged it away from his face in one lazy movement. The pressure on his brother’s nose was replaced by Klaus’ lips. He kept them parted as they shifted against the other’s skin. Diego’s body tensed just a bit when his hot breath hit his face.

“What the hell were we doing last night?” A groggy question put Klaus on the spot.

Momentary silence hauled Klaus to last night. Through the four pills and countless drinks (he had built up a resistance), he managed to remember shoving one of the pills down Diego’s throat with his own tongue.

It was unnatural, the way Klaus’ cheeks flushed at the memory. His lips momentarily trembled, and he finally pulled them away from Diego’s face. They lingered there long enough to heal the worst of pains… except for Diego’s headache.

His tongue peeked out to wet his lips. His eyes darted to the darkened window, to the wall with countless scribbles, reading over one of them a couple of times just to keep his mind off his embarrassment. Lastly, they settled upon the scar on Diego’s brow. Too high to stare into his eyes, but low enough to hide Klaus’ discomfort.

“Well…” He had to answer Diego. Leaving him hanging by a thread would do him more harm than good.

Sudden fear filled his chest. What if Diego considered this a mistake?

His mouth opened, eyes closed, and as he began speaking, the door was shoved open unceremoniously.

In unison, Diego and Klaus shot up into a sitting position, their bodies almost clashing together as they did so. One of Klaus’ arms stayed wrapped around the other’s shoulder, his leg hanging off the edge of the bed. He awkwardly removed his limb from Diego’s body upon realization.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Five spoke in monotone, though a glimmer of surprise shined on his cocky expression.

_ “The apocalypse is coming.”  _


	4. Lacrymaria Olor

It’s been a few days since Five had collected the whole family (minus Vanya) and exploded in an explanation of the upcoming apocalypse. It’s been only a few days, yet so much happened. The very first thing the Hargreeves found out, after their fight with Vanya, was that Klaus and Diego were hiding something. Five elaborated very little on it, to both of the brothers’ relief, but everyone else was quick to catch on to what was happening. Despite the endless teasing and funny glances, nobody was too bothered by it. Luther was the exception to the rule, yet he was quickly silenced by Diego himself. Vanya had been left in the unknown.

Diego didn’t seem happy with everyone finding out about this (almost) hookup. Klaus wished to question him, but there was no time.

Another big thing that happened was Vanya herself. Poor little Vanya, mentally tortured by her father, hidden from everyone else like a ticking time bomb, finally exploded. The anger and hurt had piled up in her body like grains of sand in an hourglass. The moment a hammer hit the fragile glass, all of the fury leaked through and collected the sand like a wave of icy cold water, turning it into something beautiful, magnificent,  _ brutal. _

She released her anger on the woman she respected, the woman she loved deeply - Allison. Klaus couldn’t believe that she had it in her.

He understood Vanya.

The exasperation and exhaustion from years of neglect and pain, of being slowly beaten up by words and canes until you were molded into someone Reginald deemed respectable. Klaus still wished he could say he was what his father wanted him to be, but he wasn’t. The explosion of sudden emotions was familiar; Klaus could remember when he lashed out in anger, the spirits engulfing his whole fragile, barely adult body and becoming lifelike. Like animals made of glass, they were dainty yet dangerous. After one attempt, Klaus was quick to give up on his anger. It  _ scared _ him. What brought him comfort were his very best friends with the names of drugs and alcohol. Any would do, as long as he got to forget that he couldn’t control this beast inside of him. Ben reminded him of it every waking moment, though.

He assumed that Vanya was no different. It was her realization that she was armed and dangerous, that she was like her siblings. They should’ve accepted her the way she was, with her apologies of harming Allison and all, but  _ no. _ Instead they locked her up like a bird in a cage, shutting up her songs and twisting them into helpless screams.

Luther was stupid at the best of times, and this was one of the worst. Yet, Klaus knew that protesting was futile. Oh, he tried. He tried, Diego tried, Allison, barely breathing, tried. Luther was too stubborn to budge.

So instead, Klaus left. He was clean for the few days, too busy being dragged along because of the apocalypse and all that. Tiring, really, when he didn’t even care if it would happen. He would be happy to die, to be honest. There wasn’t anything holding him back in the mortal realm… except for Diego, of course. But lately, it didn’t seem like he cared.

Klaus leaned back against the wall of the building, grasping onto the packet of cigarettes in the pocket of his vest. For just a second, his fingers lingered on the ragged material.  _ Dave. _

Digits danced along the firm fabric, slowly travelling from the pocket to another one right on his chest, then to the collar of the vest. Finally, they grasped onto the cold dog tags. He hissed at the sudden feeling, but dragged his fingers over the familiar engraving. Dave.  _ Dave. _

“Dave,” he whispered, breath hitching in the very back of his throat as his warm palm enveloped the coolness of the metal. He grasped it so tightly that he was afraid he would tug the necklace off, but then his grip loosened up, and he dragged the tags along the ball chain until it reached his jaw. All the way through, the metal throttled with an uninviting sound. It was so familiar to Klaus, so warm and alluring. Like Dave himself.

Tilting his head down just a tad, he pressed his chapped lips against the memento of his lover. His eyes closed slowly, revealing the smudge he called eyeliner, lashes grazing his cheekbones. A finger slowly traced the back of the tags as he continued pressing them against his mouth. His breath came out shaky, uncertainty written all over it. He loved Dave. He missed Dave. So why did he suddenly feel better, could suddenly breathe?

It was unfair for him to fall so quickly, so blindly, in love again. It was unfair to Dave because he deserved to have someone love him still, not that Klaus  _ didn’t _ . Diego didn’t necessarily get the good end of the stick either, as Klaus kept comparing the two in his mind. They were different, had nothing similar between them, yet they held so many similarities that it hurt. It wasn’t fucking fair to Klaus, either. He had to choose. Did he want to let himself be happy and move on from a man that he had lost only a heartbeat ago  _ (50 years and counting) _ , or did he want to keep Dave fresh in his fleeting memory and refuse his honest feelings for his brother? A part of him wished to say the latter, but the egoism consumed him. He wanted to be happy, he wished to breathe again. It felt so good to have air in his lungs.

“Klaus.” At the mention of his name, the dog tags fell against his chest with a soft thump. Klaus turned his head to the side as he put his typical side smile on, staring at the object of his newly found affections. He pondered if Diego watched him be embarrassing, or if he had just come in. To ease his mind, he decided on the second choice.

“Diego?” Klaus prompted as he tugged the packet of cigarettes out of his pocket. Took him a good bit to get that out of the way, apparently.

He then opened up the box, gently flicking the top of the packet with his painted nail. Grabbed one of the cigarettes, pulled it out with an elegant swoop and placed it in between the index and middle fingers of his left hand. Upon fishing out the lighter that was so unlike him - completely black and dull - he lit up a cigarette. Then, he pointed the packet at Diego.

“Want one?”

With a hesitant nod, Diego took the cigarette. Klaus then hid the box away in the vest.

“I was wondering,” Klaus began, “Why did you agree to come with me to the nightclub? You won’t fool me with the brother bonding bullshit, big boy. No way would you shove all that shit in your body…” A momentary pause. “I saw that you were upset.”

His thumb snapped the lighter to ignition, then moved towards the cigarette that was in Diego’s mouth. The other’s eyes were slightly wide, his brows raised; a deer caught in the headlights. Klaus knew what he was asking. Diego did too.

_ Why did he allow this to happen? _

The heavy question weighed Klaus down like a sack of stones, pressing down every vertebrae in his spine until it crushed him to the ground. Diego looked like he was turning the question over in his head, too. At least Klaus wasn’t suffering alone.

Pocketing the lighter, Klaus took a drag of the cigarette as his eyes shut once more. He preferred to be blind for this. Whatever bitter truth would spill from Diego’s throat, he didn’t want to see it. He wished to hear it while imagining that Diego was burning in the deepest parts of hell.

“Patch…” His brother croaked out, and Klaus’ fingers stilled mid-air. Lips wrapped tightly around the cigarette between them, some ashes tangling in between the short hairs of his beard.

“Who?” He muttered out from around the intrusion in his mouth.

“My ex.” Diego paused for long enough to let the idea sit in Klaus’ stomach, for it to simmer like a good dinner. Klaus wasn’t in the mood for food.

His eyes parted once more, and hesitantly, landed on Diego’s face. What was revealed was nothing. Absolutely nothing. Stone cold expression, unfeeling eyes. Did Klaus ever matter?

“She died,” Diego continued with the fact that Klaus already knew. Dark, cold eyes stared off into the distance. The warmth was gone, just like Diego’s affection. Klaus decided that the option of grieving his ex was a better choice than grieving his current love. It was never meant to be, anyway.

“I’m so sorry,” Klaus murmured softly, as if the words didn’t hurt. He took a few more drags of the cigarette, then leaned closer to Diego. His fingers ghosted over the thick harness, never really touching it, other than in his momentary fantasies. Klaus’ lips parted, and he spoke once more, “I understand.”

“I know you do.” There was no sympathy in the other’s voice as he cut off all communication between them, simply smoking the cigarette that was handed to him by Klaus.

A rebound. That was all Klaus was for that night. Someone to love because Diego couldn’t show his feelings to someone’s rotting body. Someone to hold because holding a corpse’s hand would be freezing cold and devastating. Someone to kiss because technically, if he were to do that to Patch, it would be necrophilia.

The thought almost made Klaus laugh. He held himself back for once.

A rebound. Wasn’t that what Diego was, too? There were so many things about him that brought back a flush of warm memories back to Klaus, a hug of familiarity. But then there was that toothed smile that made Diego’s lips tug a bit more to the right of his face than normal. There were his dry jokes that were so shitty that they made Klaus laugh because they framed Diego to sound like an old man. There was  _ Diego…  _

And Diego was not a rebound. Not for a single second.

Klaus dropped the finished cigarette, then stomped on it with the sole of his sneaker for good measure. Diego followed suit.

“Well…” Klaus simply shrugged, then patted Diego on the shoulder. An unnatural smile, almost a grimace, appeared on his face.

“Consider that a hookup, then? I know we didn’t technically do the do, but hey! All the easier to forget!” A laugh as he threw his hands up in the air.

“See you,  _ bro _ .” It made him nauseous to even say that word. It was something Diego had in his lexicon, not Klaus. But he had to make do in this situation.

A flash of hurt was visible in those beautiful eyes. It pained Klaus that he couldn’t press his lips against Diego’s cheek to whisper his last goodbye. It would be more awkward than now, to talk about his unrequited feelings.

“See you.” Diego’s tone was calm and collected, and Klaus threw a peace sign in return before vanishing inside of the Hargreeves’ manor.

**—**

The hours after went by in a rush.

First came a crash, then their home crumbled, never to be seen again. It wouldn’t hurt Klaus so much to lose his childhood and finally bury it under a thick layer of concrete if it didn’t take his own mother and someone else quite close with it. Pogo was a good old man, albeit a bit too attached to Reginald.

After the five siblings scrambled around while trying to find a plan on how to tame the sixth one, they finally settled in the bowling alley. Per his suggestion, the plan was to go to Vanya’s concert. Klaus finally felt a little useful, even if his pride was knocked down a few pegs right when Diego insisted that he would never date Klaus.

“You’d be lucky to get me,” Klaus blurted out in a moment of heat, though his voice showed no such emotion. He wished to add, _the hickeys show otherwise,_ but stayed silent.

There was no time for their personal feelings, love, bitterness. The fucking apocalypse was happening, and according to most, that was much more important than some relationship that was just as quick to break as it was to build. Five was nowhere to be found, either, once he left both of his  _ dads’ _ peripheral visions.

Then the party started. Blinding colors, the rattling noise of shotguns. Klaus would’ve sunk into another panic attack because of Dave. Oh god, his body, all bloody and bruised, laying on the slippery bowling lane. No time for this, no time for this,  _ no time for your feelings, Klaus. _

His own thoughts merged with Ben’s words, and he gave his brother a glance over before following his siblings out of the bowling alley with minor scuffle with the masked assailants.

Next stop of the marvelous five - well, four, as the actual Five has disappeared - was the Icarus Theater. For the others, it seemed like the best choice was to leave Klaus to guard the place. Even Diego agreed to Klaus’ downfall. With a huff, Klaus reluctantly agreed to stay back with his  _ only _ brother and look after his shitty siblings from the outside of the main stage. 

It’s not like they knew that it was basically impossible for Klaus to focus on one task for too long, especially when he was off of any substance that could increase his levels of interest. No, not at all! They hadn’t known him since childhood or anything. Klaus rolled his eyes as he stomped out of the theater to get himself some food. His tummy was rumbling, his withdrawals had started, and he was in the worst state of mind possible.  _ Fuck those guys, _ he wished to yell, but Ben got the message without him actually doing so.

For a second, Klaus wondered if the other could actually hear his thoughts. If so, that’d be real fucking cool.

**—**

That proved to be true. Not only that, but Ben could do a lot on his own. Some semblance of self-worth returned to the beaten soul of Klaus’. He could make Ben do that. He could fight. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted!

As bodies of their enemies fell, Klaus couldn’t find a trace of Diego. His eyes wandered around the scene, finding Luther fighting some masked men, Allison hiding behind the seats while seeking out the best time to sneak to her sister, Five was here now, Diego was not found.

Then there was Vanya. Strings of her white violin trembled under the force of her fury. Sound waves surrounded her, creating a calming facade.  _ Step in, _ it lured everyone with its soft melody, _ take my hand.  _ No child of Reginald Hargreeves was stupid enough to let the pale look of death consume them, but they needed a plan. 

Hushed in by Luther, they collected in a circle behind the crimson seats.

“Where’s Diego?” Klaus all but whispered, panicked eyes glancing around. Bitterness be damned. A rebound or not, Klaus knew he cared for Diego despite the little pain he experienced. They were brothers first and foremost, with all kinds of mistakes littered along the way.

“We have no time for him,” Luther cut in with his authoritarian attitude, “He’ll have to catch up whenever he’s back.”

“But that’s not fair!” Klaus’ voice rapidly got high pitched, worry filling the bottom of his belly. Diego could be anywhere, buried under the crumbling floorboards, squeezed under rows of chairs, lying against a wall with his throat slit.

“We’re running out of time,” Five hissed, and Klaus fell quiet. Five was right. But wasn’t he always utterly, devastatingly right?

It was like he was in a movie scene; everything abruptly turned into slow-motion. The theater walls crumbled apart, hitting the floor piece by piece like a beat to the hellish symphony. Creaks of the floorboards as they peeled back, crashes of the second floor as furniture flew far back. It was Vanya’s music.

But the main part of the melody, her last hurrah, was right in front of them. White light had enveloped the huge hall like a warm hug, wrapping Klaus up in paralysis like a ribbon would a Christmas present. He couldn’t move a single digit, he couldn’t shift his eyes, he couldn’t even  _ scream _ . It mustered everything in him to focus his wide gaze on the red center of the overwhelming light. Dragged right out of the tales of old time that scared both kids and adults from tucking their noses where they didn’t belong, there was she. The White Violin. Not a more sickening monster than she.

And the one dressed in all red was the brave warrior. The hero of their nation. Red was his face, covered in tiger stripes that were nothing more than gashes. Red was the skin hidden underneath the dark clothing. Red was his clothing, the black drenched in fluids that colored it in a nauseating shade of burgundy. Red was the scenery around him, like thick, gooey ink dripping down snow white paper.

“Diego.” A broken whisper of a broken mind.

As the white flickered, the soldier fell, clashed down against the floor with an inhuman noise; something between a loud thud and a squish of wet garbage. There was no noise coming from him, not a word. Klaus didn’t blame him. He blamed himself.

He could’ve ran, he could’ve pushed him aside, he could’ve done a gazillion fucking things, and yet he did  _ none  _ of them. Coward, nothing but a filthy fucking coward. He was a coward when he was a child, cornered in the mausoleum by thousands of spirits. He was a coward when he took the first sip of vodka just to get rid of the intrusive thoughts. He was a coward in the 60s, facing the enemies like a toy soldier with a water gun while he shook in his boots. He was a coward now, watching the second love of his life fall like a slab of meat on the floor.

Klaus may have followed his love to the front line, may have grabbed the gun. But he had never pulled the trigger.

The weight of guilt kicked Klaus right in the shins and pushed him to the slippery floor. Nails dug into every piece of floorboard, scratching along the surface just to push his paralyzed body away from the cushioned seats and forward, against the giant sound wave that the horror herself conducted with the bloody bow. The song wasn’t the one he was so used to, the one that boomed in the club when he kissed Diego. Nor was it the one that rang in his ears when he needed relaxation from the panic attacks caused by him taking a bath. It was screeching, like all the strings were ripped and ready to get him entangled in the wires, to cut him into pieces. It was the explosions and the crashes, adding an unnatural rhythm. It was the weak grunts of Diego, a dying breath.

_ Klaus -  _ he didn’t see him, but he felt him. Ben was right there, beside him,  _ in _ him, pushing him forward through the slobber and the tears, through the ache in his broken fingernails, through the cracking of his barely beating heart.  _ You can do this. _

But did he want to?

He didn’t need to reach a concrete answer, as he had already reached the goal. There laid Diego, bleeding out of the torn up caverns that were once his arms, the ripped up thighs, past his lips. It was  _ red, red, red. _ Bullets.

Tears stopped just as suddenly as they started, and he parted his lips to utter something out, but all that came out was an empty breath. From up close, everything was that much worse.  _ Dave’s,  _ no,  _ Diego’s  _ vacant eyes barely focused on him, but he mustered a smile that showed his red teeth. It was so sincerely weak that it almost seemed fake. Klaus knew it was real.

A slight nod and a shaky breath later, he finally reached his trembling hand out to press against Diego’s cooling cheek. The only thing hot about it was the thousands of tiny gashes on his pretty skin. Diego visibly flinched, but he did not shake the smile off.

“Y...you’re beautiful,” Klaus choked out as the second wave of stifling tears came back to his eyes. “Beautiful, you hear me?” He nodded as if to approve of his own words, gulping down the giant ball of feelings in his throat. Every time Diego ran his pointer finger over his scar due to nervousness, every time his round, dark eyes shined in glee because of his stupid joke, every time his booming laugh drowned out the rest of their surroundings - it was proof of his unintentional, graceful beauty.

“And kind…” The vivid memory resurfaced, once filed away in the furthest corner of his messed up brain, of Reginald pressing his cane against the bottom of Klaus’ chin, ready to tilt his teary face up so he could do God knows what. But tiny Diego, Klaus’ little delight, came all stuttery and trembling, all to defend him. It didn’t help, not one bit, only ended up in punishment for the both of them. 

Klaus chuckled as bitter tears collected in his goatee, slowly forming into a single droplet to land on Diego’s body. A hand that had clutched one of the bleeding holes in Diego’s body now came up to his own face, wiping rapidly at the snot and tears. All it did was cover his skin in fresh blood.

“And strong,” he whispered, followed by a hiccup. Diego had always fought to the very last drop of blood he had in him, much like he was doing now. But it wasn’t the physical strength that Klaus had adored. It was how Diego, after years of torture and trauma, turned himself into a decent person. He had a home he called his own, he had a job, he had a  _ life.  _ It must’ve taken a lot of strength for him not to drop everything, use his father’s money, and turn into a despot or a lapdog.

“A..and vulnerable… Dee… Diego…” Stutter was Diego’s thing. He knew Diego wished to say it, so he batted his curled up fist against his damp chest in response. It made a slight, squelching noise.

It wasn’t often that Diego was vulnerable, though. He hid his emotions behind a mask of a vigilante. A man made of stone and brute strength. Yet, Klaus would see the softness slip through the cracks. Today was a prime example of how much he truly cared. He dragged himself back into a crumbling building just to save a mother that was nothing more but a laggy robot. Klaus tried to stop him, he  _ did, _ but was it worth it? Here they were now, as destined.

Klaus wished to feel that calming hand against his cheek again, he wished to feel his warm skin. But the pair of hands he wished so dearly to touch laid somewhere on the stage, where the maestro of this horrific concert stood. No emotion shown on that cold white face, not a glimpse of remorse in her white, haunting irises. If he continued to stare, he would end up doing something he’d regret.

So he looked down at his brother, his lover. The light was fading in Diego’s eyes, his lips shifting in an attempt at speech. Klaus just shushed him by pressing his finger against those once soft lips. Now they were so dry. Clammy and weird.

“No, no, no.” He shook his head, then leaned down and placed a careful kiss to Diego’s forehead. “No… don’t speak.”

Against the warning, Diego spoke, “Smile... for me…”

Silence filled the two of them like a comforting bubble that protected them from any outside harm. A false feeling of safety. And Klaus smiled. Undoubtedly, he smiled. With teeth showing and his cheeks crinkling until there was a slight resemblance of dimples somewhere there, with his eyes almost clenching closed because of how wide the grin was. It was more of a grimace than anything, really, pushing more tears out of him in the process. But it seemed to do the trick.  Diego was happy. Klaus could see it in those soulless, dead eyes. So Klaus was happy, too.

His hand came up to Diego’s forehead, the tattooed palm moving in front of one of his eyes. The other didn’t flinch, didn’t blink. 

“Diego?” He felt a hand on his shoulder, and Klaus turned his head to see who was able to touch him so effortlessly. Ben.

“He’s… he’s gone, Klaus.” The words were quiet, but Klaus heard every syllable of them. Blame the telepathy of the seance.

“No…” A shake of his head, and Klaus turned to Diego again. Hands grasped the unmoving face, tugged the lifeless head up. Klaus leaned his face down to press a kiss to the cooling lips, then another, then another. They tasted of iron and salt.

For a split second, he wondered if his family was too busy fighting to notice the shambles they were in.

_ “No.” _

The head crashed against the floor as the trembling fingers let it go. The same fingers ran over the long lashes, then pressed them down so they would touch the bloodied cheeks. Those mesmerizing, beautiful eyes. Unseeing for all eternity.

_ “I love you,”  _ he finally choked out. A bitterness crawled up through his veins, settled in his belly and chest, wrapped around each crevice of his brain. Why didn’t he say it earlier? When Diego could hear him?

Maybe he still could.

Frantic hands pressed underneath the nose. No air. Traveled to his neck and grasped onto the vein. No pulse. Spread out on his chest. No heartbeat.

“No!” Palms clenched into fists. He hit Diego’s cooling chest over, and over, and over again. He beat it mercilessly, causing the body to shake ever so slightly.

“You can’t leave me…” Hands clutched onto Klaus’ face as he trembled, knees barely holding the weight of his body up.

“Not you. Diego, n… no…”

His jaw fell open as a helpless scream rattled all throughout his body, ending the screeching melody with a boom. Everything around him shook for a moment, glass shattered, walls crumbled. He was not the cause. Vanya, however, was.

Klaus’ shaky head tilted up to the broken ceiling, revealing the night sky that looked sickeningly peaceful. Why was it so peaceful now, of all times? A storm was raging inside of his frail body, but not in the universe. He wanted it all to crumble and turn to dust, he wanted all to be gone, just like the people he loved, like his feelings. He wanted peace, he  _ craved _ it, and he would get it only if everything fell apart.

With a blank stare and shaking limbs, being tugged away by whichever one of his siblings towards the circle that they had formed on the stage, Klaus realized.

He understood Vanya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this chapter is lengthy, but i wished to finish off with a bang.
> 
> if u hate me for this, all complaints go to my twitter, which you can find on my profile :^)


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